She's Not Him
by VegaWestBlack
Summary: Bellatrix and Hermione have struck up a romance throughout the war that could easily be seen as forbidden for the both. One of them has to put a stop to it. Miley Cyrus: She's Not Him - Song adaptation


As Bellatrix began to stir early in the morning, her bare flesh was pressed against another's in front of her. Their skin stuck together from being pressed close together throughout the night, but the feeling didn't bother her one bit. Her arms were wrapped tightly around the waist in front of her, cursing the sun as it rose higher and higher behind the sheer curtains that did little to block out the intrusive light. She had never wanted the night to end, because she knew that the morning light brought new problems with it. Problems she wasn't truly sure she could face in the morning light.

Bellatrix nuzzled in closer, her face buried deeper in soft, light brown curls, taking in the honey and lavender scent of the woman in front of her. It was too sweet, too pure, and she didn't deserve her. Her hand slid back over a toned stomach and up the woman's curved frame under the sheets before black painted nails skimmed over the back of the girl's back, causing a drowsy moan to be coaxed out of her lips. A sound to cause Bella's hand to freeze and stomach to clench in fear.

She made sure to take in every sound, touch, and sight before her, desperately recalling the taste of the night before and licking over her lips to see if it still lingered there.

Carefully Bellatrix untangled herself from the woman's frame in front of her, sliding out of the warm comforts of raggedy bed and the girls perfect body. The cool breeze made her want to jump back into bed and forget all of her plans, ignore the world around her to savour these last few moments of peace.

However, her head was outweighing her heart.

She quickly collected the remnants of her clothes that had been tossed aside in the chaos of desire and desperation the night before. As soon as the two witches met in the room, in their secret hiding spot for the last few months, everything else seemed to melt away until nothing really mattered except each other. There was no war, there were no sides, mudbloods, Death Eater's, right or wrong. Just hungry kisses, wondering hands, teeth on flesh and white hot toe curling bliss.

A semiregular meeting between two lost souls that seemed to be an everlasting dance between love and hatred.

Bellatrix sat at the wobbly desk against the far wall of the dusty dreary room they were in. She winced, hearing the chair creak and moan beneath her weight as she sat. Luckily she didn't hear the girl behind her stir. So Bella continued on with her task, drawing her wand from her traveling cloak to summon an ink well, quill and parchment almost seemingly from thin air.

The raven haired woman sucked in a deep breath, holding it deep within her lungs, unsure where to even begin. She dipped the quill in the ink as she felt her lungs began to burn from lack of oxygen. She let out a slow breath before scrawling a name in beautiful calligraphy at the header of the parchment. No matter how beautifully she had written it, it would never do the girl justice.

She glanced out the window to see the sun slowly rising higher and higher in the sky and realized she would run out of time if she didn't begin soon. She could only write what was in her heart,

_I want to start by staying thank you, I'm going to miss you, I'm sorry. _

It was all true, the girl had given her the best moments of her life to date. Something that she sometimes thought that, if she had known her sooner, her life may be quite different. She'd be able to be happy. She wondered if she would have ended up like her arguably delusional sister as well if she had met the sleeping woman sooner.

The starts of their relationship had been something she had never imagined coming when she met the young brunette girl in the Leaky Cauldron to discuss hostage negotiations. She had heard all about the little bookworm know-it-all, but seeing was something entirely different.

It was memories that now she was beginning to realize she'd never be able to forget as long as she may live. Memories that she regretted for the both of them.

_You gave me things I can't buy back with money,_

How the mudblood had wormed her grubby filthy little way deep within Bellatrix's heart was a mystery. Intrusive and rough. That night that they met, their last night, she was sure the girl had to have believed that Bellatrix never heard the sleep doused words leaving her mouth that changed everything.

The half conscious 'I love you' she had heard the brave little Gryffindor say sent fear racking her body instantly. She was in far too deep, and it was time to change things. It had to be done. She couldn't leave it another moment or it would be too late.

She had nearly said it in return.

_You changed my life, you've changed my world _

Bellatrix had been raised a pureblood. She was the eldest daughter of the Most Ancient and Nobel House of Black, a title that she held in high esteem, a title she once thought defined her. She was raised to live this life. Raised to think the girl peacefully and carelessly sleeping behind her was lower than she was. Raised to think that mudbloods were nothing more than trash beneath the heel of their boot. She was raised to be The Dark Lord's right hand, even if she didn't know it as a child. It was the role she was made for, and she filled it perfectly.

How could one stupid girl come into her life and change all of that? So instantaneously it felt like. It wasn't fair. The first morning she woke up next to the sleeping Gryffindor curled up peacefully in her arms she realized that she had made a drastic mistake. She cared for the girl. Cared for the girl in a way she'd never cared for any other before.

_There's not other girl that looks like you darling, those eyes, _

In their first meeting, Bellatrix had gone in thinking she knew what she was doing. She was the Dark Lord's most trusted after all. He would give no other such an important role as this. While the other side had sent a mere child. It should have been simple to negotiate. She had heard all about the little mudblood from her droning nephew for days. She had a plan of just how to get under the girl's skin quickly and force the girl to give her what she wanted. It would be their way of winning the war by destroying the only sensible member of the Golden Trio.

When she first set eyes on the girl however, Bellatrix's plan soon flew out the cracked window of the filthy tavern. How did her nephew regret to inform her of how fierce the girl looked? Staring down a Death Eater twice her age and the girl did not budge. The unwavering look in those honey eyes was like a wildfire. Something Bellatrix wasn't sure if she'd want to extinguish or set free to see how it grew and consumed everything it touched. The more they met, the more they talked, negotiating war deals, discussing trade offs, even as their dialogues moved to issues outside of the current problems at hand to matters such as books, history, theory, Bellatrix fell deeper and deeper into those eyes, letting the fires consume her soul and melt the walls she tried to raise in her defence.

_that tongue those teeth that face, that body,_

The very first time their lips met, it was heated in a combative argument. Weeks had gone bye with the two of them meeting, neither side truly earning what they wanted from the negotiations. It had been much harder to break the girl than she ever imagined it would be. They both were angry, they both knew the other would not budge, they were both hungry for answer and more.

Bellatrix had found herself staring at the mudblood's body more than once. A slender frame, full hips and milky white skin. Bellatrix had gotten lost in conversation more before trying to count the freckles across the girl's nose and had to make up some bullshit excuse about being tired of listening to her drone on, when in actuality she could probably listen to her all day long. She stared, wondering what lay beneath those god awful muggle sweaters but delicious looking… what had she called them? Jeans? They hugged her legs and rear in just the right places, causing a Bella's mouth to feel dry on more than one occasion.

And when she found the girl staring back? Those eyes raking over Bella's sunken dark features, her eyes settling on the swell of her breast overflowing from the corset, it caused Bella to smirk with mirth that she could so easily distract the girl as well with just a single look or absent minded twirl of a loose curl in front of her face.

The first time that it happened Bella had chalked up to nothing more than a drunken accident. She needed the whiskey to make the negotiations bearable, but when heated arguments turned to a yelling match, both witches growing closer and closer together, she wasn't sure what made her more light headed, the alcohol or the wafting smell of the girl's perfume when the screaming fit sent them both to their feet and in each other's faces.

She was lucky they had a private room for the evening to discuss things, and a bed large enough for two when fervent kisses turned to ripping of clothes and skin to skin contact. The jeans were nice, but much better in a pile at the base of the bed. She was drunk, but drunk on the girl's touch, her hands wondering over Bellatrix's flesh, the feel of her perfect white teeth marring the pale white skin over her breast, and determined to earn every moan, pant, and utterance of her name from the brunette's lips.

_Even though we've gone to outer space, There's still no way you can take His place,_

Bellatrix was determined after the first _incident _that it would never happen again. She had a duty to her Lord to fulfil. She could not allow herself distractions.

She was meant to be causing a distraction for the girl instead. She wondered if even then the girl was as much turmoil as she had been in.

She avoided two weeks of meetings, fearing her lack of self control when face to face with those eyes again, staring at pale parted lips.

When they did finally meet once again, both were infuriated by the other like never before. The damned muggle-born knew how to get under her skin like no other, and all she wanted to do was to put the child back down into her place. Their cause for the light was futile. She knew what her role was. She knew what the future should be. Didn't she?

_And why? Why can't I love you baby? Like I want to love you baby? I'm sorry_.

She wasn't even quite sure when she realized it. When she had realized she'd fallen for the girl. When she realized her whole world was falling apart. All thanks to some muggle-born school girl who could still her heart with just a single look. Who could set her skin ablaze with just a single touch. Who could feed the hunger of her soul with a mere taste of her sweet lips.

But she couldn't.

No matter who won the war, they couldn't.

If The Dark Lord were to win, as He should, her muggle-born would surely be put to death. She was the Potter brat's friend. The brains of the Golden Trio, the main reason of their minor successes thus far. There was no way her Lord would grant the girl freedom in the end.

Especially not with Bellatrix.

The scandal, were anyone to know that Bellatrix Black was bedding a mudblood? It would ruin her. She'd most likely be put to death as well alongside the other woman in a public display of her Lord's power.

If the Potter boy somehow did win, she would not allow herself to return to Azkaban. She would sooner die, slit her wrists, drink poison than return to that soul dead hell hole. Her crimes would be too insurmountable to be pardoned, even at the Gryffindor's requested it. It was too much to ask for. The lives she'd taken, ruined along the way were not worth the life she now wished she could have.

Were they in another life? Another time? Maybe. Maybe then there would be a shred of hope, a chance then that things could work out, that for the first time in Bellatrix's life she might be happy.

But she couldn't.

_And maybe, it's beyond my control. Some sort of chemical reaction that's making it impossible to let him go,_

The worst feeling of all had been weeks ago, they had been curled up in the tattered room together. Bellatrix holding the girl in her arms, her fingers slowly stroking through her hair to ease her to sleep. She could feel her breath starting to ease and relax against her breast as the girl drifted off. Bellatrix never wanted to leave that space, that moment in time where she actually felt at peace, ignoring the world around her.

There was no way to ignore the electricity that soon burned through her forearm, crippling the woman's ministrations and causing her to jump from the bed, clinging to the down swirling ink of the mark on her arm.

The girl, who had been so close to blissful sleep was jerked back to reality as well, sad eyes of realization hitting her as she watched Bella cling to her arm. She knew what it meant. She knew things would be ending. No happy ending for the two of them that night. She'd have to cover the bites and scratches that littered her arms chest and back, including the one just above the now screaming skull.

She was being summoned.

There was no way to say no. It was her Lord. She had to go. She couldn't ignore Him for the girl. Bellatrix was quick to dress, not saying another word, no goodbyes or admissions of regret before disappearing in a puff of dark smoke. That would be too painful.

_You're not Him._

It killed her to write it, but it was true.

She wasn't her Lord. She wouldn't write the name. She knew the girl more than understood the word. She knew the girl would know where her loyalties truly lay. She knew going into too much detail would just be added vinegar to the wound, an unnecessary burn that she wouldn't wish on the girl still sleeping peacefully unaware in the bed.

_And you don't deserve all the bullshit I put you through. You deserve a heart much bigger than one torn in two._

The girl was young. She'd be able to move on past this naïve mistake she'd made as a child. The mistake of taking the most feared Death Eater in history into her bed.

Truthfully it was more compassionate to end things before anyone were to find out. Were news to leak of their actions behind closed doors, it would ruin the girl. Something that maybe months ago would have benefitted Bellatrix, but now? She couldn't do that to the girl who was ripping her heart apart.

The Gryffindor was smart, she was quick and brave, even if her Lord were to be victorious, the girl knew how to hide, how to evade the ministry and his forces. They had been searching for nearly a year for the girl's parents, some kind of leverage over the muggle-born, but they had disappeared from the face of the earth. Bellatrix had tried asking once, but knew she wouldn't get a solid answer. But by the pained look in the girl's eyes, she knew that she had done what she had to do to ensure their safety away from those who would seek to hurt them. She could do the same for herself.

She'd be able to find someone else to heal the wounds that Bellatrix would be causing her. Someone who could really, truly love her like Bellatrix could not.

_Every time you walk through that door, I swear to god you're more beautiful than before._

Hermione.

Hermione Granger was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen on the face of the earth.

Somehow she knew as soon as she laid eyes on the girl face to face that she would be her undoing.

And every time since then that she saw those caramel coloured curls and bright fiery eyes, she lost a little more of herself. She was loosing herself to Hermione and it scared the living hell out of Bellatrix every single time.

More than once Bella had imagined just taking the girl in the night, running as far as they could, ignoring their lives back in Brittan, but she knew the girl wouldn't, couldn't do that. She would sooner die than loose her friends and family back home. She'd resent Bellatrix for their entire lives alone in isolation. It was something Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to do.

_No matter what you say, no matter what you do I just can't fall in love with you, _

Breaking things now would make them easier later. She had to keep telling herself that. She wasn't sure if she was telling herself this more so or writing it for the girl.

She had to lie to herself.

_because you're not Him. _

Yeah she's not him.

Bellatrix signed her name at the bottom of the page, cursing as tears threatened to make the ink bleed as they hit the page.

Replacing the stopper back to the inkwell, Bellatrix folded the parchment shut, allowing Hermione's name to show proudly at the top of the page before vanishing the remnents of her stationary.

Turning in the chair, Bellatrix could still see the woman asleep in the bed behind her, blissfully unaware of what was to come. She tried to take in every last minute she had with the girl, even if she was not conscious for it.

Bellatrix walked around the bed to stare down at the still dozing face of Hermione Granger. Her her eyes relaxed without a worry or care in the world, her lips soft without words of regret and sadness. Bellatrix leaned down over her to taste them one last time. It felt like a hot knife slipping through her cold heart to do so, but she needed it. Just one last time.

She laid the rolled up scroll on the pillow beside Hermione where she once laid moments ago. She knew she'd never be forgiven for her actions, but it was better this way. It'd be easier on them both.

Bella walked to the door, her hand shivering as she reached for the handle. It'd be so easy to just turn back now, rip up the letter and return to the way things were. But it was foolish, things could never be between the Death Eater and the Golden Girl. With that, she turned the door handle, too afraid to look back for fear she'd never leave.

Hearing the door click shut behind her, the brunette began to stir in bed, stretching out in the now cold and absent bed. Her eyes searched around the small dreary room for the woman that she loved. The only one who could ever her feel like this. "Bella?"


End file.
